


The Inmates' Child

by grayisnotacolour (grayisnotsocial)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Gen, Kind Death Eaters, Pre-Canon Prologue, paternal Sirius
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayisnotsocial/pseuds/grayisnotacolour
Summary: When Sirius runs off to confront Wormtail about his betrayal, instead of irresponsibly leaving behind his godson to be taken away by Dumbledore, he takes Harry with him. He bundles him up and carries him in a pouch hidden in his robe as his former friend accuses him of causing the Potters' deaths and turning to the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, Sirius is not quite in his right mind when Wormtail escapes. By the time he is coherent enough to speak rationally, he is locked away in the infallible wizarding prison, Azkaban, and his young godson with him. This is a story of how the series would play out if, among other things, Harry was raised in a fairly loving community in Azkaban.Based on the plot of Lovesong Of The Buzzard by LittleRedWolfe (orphan_account)irresponsible author=irregular updates. sorry if that's a nuisance.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lovesong Of The Buzzard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075993) by [LittleRedWolfe (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LittleRedWolfe). 



> [this note applies to all chapters, and will be added to as necessary. all other notes will either be at the end of chapters or contain warnings about things essential to the understanding of the story, a trigger, and/or a citation]
> 
> WHAT'S WHAT:  
> normal dialogue in quotes ("")  
> word(s) with emphasis in normal dialogue in italics  
> thoughts in italics, outside of quotes  
> letters marked with (//) at beginning and end, in italics  
> spells/ritual incantations marked with (~) at beginning and end, in italics  
> LANGUAGES OTHER THAN ENGLISH:  
> parseltongue marked with (§) at beginning and end, in italics  
> Latin in italics
> 
> as those of you who actually read what i have written above can probably tell, this fic is going to contain liberal overuse of italics. this is mainly because in all the time i have spent texting, my biggest problem is the lack of ways to use italics to express yourself. if you want to emphasise your words or differentiate between lines or anything, you have to either copy and paste it in or use caps lock, which i hate because it has a total lack of subtlety and finesse and makes you sound extremely angry. how about no?  
> okay. rant over. read or leave.

Sirius wasn't sure what would happen when he found Peter, but whatever it was, it would be worth it.

After all, what could be sweeter than the taste of revenge, taken swiftly on those who had caused one immense pain?

He had caused the deaths of James- his friend, his partner in crime, his brother in everything nearly including blood, and his source of stability- and Lily, who was a marauder herself in everything but name.

The name 'marauder' may seem childish- indeed, it was created by children- but it was so much more than the name of a group of exceptional pranksters. It was a promise to always be there for one another, a place to call home when there is nowhere to go, a reason to be when there are so many indicating otherwise. When Sirius ran away from his family and straight into the arms of the Potters, he may not have been stricken from the books, but he wanted nothing more than to never again be associated with the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He made the marauders his family, and was content in his place among his friends. He had been known for his flirtatious mannerisms in his school days, it was true, but he never took on a spouse because he had no need for anyone else. He had his marauders, his pack- his clever Moony, the calmest of them but fierce in the defense of those held dear; his Prongs, his best friend, proud and strong but loving and caring to those around him; his beautiful Lily, fierce and fiery but with a sweetness that matched the flower for which she was named; and his Wormtail, slightly anxious, but dependable and always making everything work out- or so he had thought. Of course, Sirius could now see how his seemingly-benign traits could fit in with his apparently more traitorous tendencies- the anxiousness hiding his fear of being caught by those who called him 'friend;'  his dependability a front to mask his entirely undependable allegiances; his almost Slytherin way of keeping their trust all an effort to keep them from seeing that he had betrayed them all and been marked by the one they considered an enemy above all others, the Dark Lord known as Voldemort.  

Peter had taken two of those closest to Sirius' heart's trust and used it to further his own goals, and the young man had felt perfectly justified in going out to get revenge.

Now, sitting in a cold, dark cell with mold climbing damp walls, desperately trying to keep the child in his arms warm, Sirius for the first time felt the beginnings of regret for his actions. After all, would it not be better to grow naive and sheltered than to be raised in the hellhole that the government had the gall to call 'humane?' 

**\- - - - - - -**

Two weeks later, Sirius had finally convinced an Auror to come close enough to explain the situation. The Auror explained that she could try to convince her superiors to sign a warrant to remove him, but that the people unfortunate enough to be stationed at the prison were usually not believed on such matters. 

A month later, the next time the Auror was on shift, she told the surrogate father with regret that she had been written off as near insane due to Dementor exposure and was scheduled for months of sessions with mind healers. She apologised profusely, but eventually had to continue on her rounds. 

Sirius sat back and looked down at the child in his lap with an expression of hopelessness few could match. Just as he was considering going back to the pathetic cot with the even more pathetic excuse for a blanket, he heard a hoarse voice that he vaguely recognised, protesting apparently rough treatment.

'Be quiet, you bitch. You really think that after what you did to those poor people, you deserve to be treated all nice and proper?' An Auror dragging a slightly struggling Bellatrix Lestrange came into view from the barred window stretching about a square metre, approximately two feet off the ground. A very inconvenient height. Bellatrix looked as insane as Sirius had ever seen her, with her hair wild and slightly matted and her eyes shining with mad indignation. Her eyes locked on his just as she was preparing to regale the guard with the the extensive list of reasons that she was superior to him in every way, and she instead allowed her mouth to twist into a delightedly mocking smile.

'Oooooo, little Sirius, the runaway heir, in prison for what he rebelled against! It's so wonderfully ironic!' She giggled in absolute giddiness with a hint of the madness the Blacks were so well known for. The guard sneered as he threw her violently into the cell across from Sirius' own. The disheveled man sighed, knowing that she would spend all of both of their assumed life sentences making scalding remarks about his misfortune. Bellatrix waited until the Auror was out of sight before she turned to him with a hard glint shining through the madness. Before she could begin what would surely be a long session of teasing, bragging, and praising her precious Dark Lord, however, Hadrian gave a loud cry from behind him.

Sirius instantly went into the paternal mindset that had become second nature over the few weeks that he had been trapped with his godson in the horror that was Azkaban. He whipped around and went to the bed, where the tiny child was wrapped in Sirius' only blanket and extra prison uniform. He thought about what could be the problem- Harry was generally a very agreeable child, so for him to be crying, it must not be a passing discomfort. Being fairly new to fathering, it took him a bit longer than it probably should have to realise that it had been more than twelve hours since they had last gotten food- their food was magically delivered every day at twelve o'clock, with enough to keep one person healthy enough to last in harsh conditions. The previous day, Harry had refused to eat all that Sirius had offered him, and he supposed that the little orphan was feeling the consequences of his actions. Sirius picked him up and held him closely while gently reprimanding him.

'Maybe next time, you'll  _listen_ to me when I tell you that you will regret something! I know you can understand what I'm trying to say, so your age is no excuse! It is a proven fact that wizarding children progress and develop faster than muggle kids, and you are certainly old enough to get a sense of intent even if you  _don't_ understand English!'

As her cousin continued to reprimand the child he had been forced to care for, Bellatrix peered through her tiny window in hopes of figuring out who or what Sirius was talking to. The cry had sounded like that of a wizarding child, but that was impossible. He was no woman, so it was not likely for him to have come pregnant, even if he had been a homosexual capable of carrying a child. He was straight as they come, so a child was out. She couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but she could discern something about not understanding English- a pet, perhaps? Just as she was considering calling out to ask, his familiar face appeared in the window across the small space. He appeared troubled, and in her moment of clear-mindedness, she wondered what on earth was going on. What happened next shocked her, to say in the least.

'Bella, you wouldn't happen to be willing to spare some of your gruel, by any chance, would you? For a good cause, of course.' She stared at him incredulously, his grim smile sliding off his face in the face of her obvious reluctance.

'Why in Merlin's name would I want to give you some of the little food that I will receive daily, simply to ensure your well-being?' Bella shook her head in confusion. Even in his ridiculous Gryffindor way, he had always been fairly clever. His sudden seeming loss of brainpower confused her already addled mind even further. Sirius shook his head as she finished speaking.

'It's not for me.' Bella became even more confused.

'Well, who is it for, then?' Sirius looked at her with slightly pursed lips.

'It's for Harry. He's hungry.' 

Bellatrix was shocked into silence, but it only lasted a moment before she was gripping the bars in her window and pressing her head through the bars up to her neck.

'You can't mean Harry  _Potter._ He's been missing since-'

'Since I was arrested. There is a valid reason for that. I had him on me at the time and whoever delivered me here was irresponsible enough not to take him away,  _Merlin knows why_. A while back, I convinced an Auror to go to her superior about him, to see about getting him removed, but she was written up as insane from Dementor Exposure and given months of mind healer sessions. Bloody ridiculous, our justice system. I'm given an assumed life sentence for being the Dark Lord's right hand without a trial, proof, or even a bloody  _mark_ and then when a perfectly respectable Auror comes to them with a serious problem, she is called insane and is sent to a mind healer without even  _investigating_ her claims! Not to mention, even after she is given treatment for  _Dementor exposure,_ she was still here for her monthly shift! It's bloody inhumane, that's what it is! And they don't even have the excuse of thinking that  _she_ is a traitor and muggle murderer!' Sirius was winding down towards the end of the rant, ending with a mutter of, 'Bloody  _ridiculous_....'

Bellatrix stared thoughtfully at her cousin before pulling out her bowl of gruel and wandlessly levitating (the only wandless spell she knew) it through the bars and into the other Black's waiting hands. 

'No more than five spoonfuls,' she said absentmindedly, eyeing him thoughtfully.  _Maybe there is hope for him yet,_ she thought. The female Death Eater was very curious about how the world would be affected by the apparent Chosen One's being raised by someone with curiously shifting loyalties. And, by Salazar, she would stay sane to satisfy her curiosity. She would be damned if the Dementors killed her before she got to see the old goat's face when he realised that the  _true_ Boy-Who-Lived had been raised in one of the most horrible places humanly habitable (if only barely), less than ten feet away from one of the Dark Lord's own Inner Circle.

It was almost enough to make her cackle.


	2. Is prison popularity fame, or infamy?

Over the years, Hadrian had grown, perhaps not as strong or muscular as he might have, but well enough, considering that he was raised in a prison cell with a quarter of a ration for the first three and a half years following his imprisonment, then in a cell far away from the only two people he'd ever known with slightly more food from the time he was four until the ministry came to take him away.

When Hadrian had grown large enough to stand out, the Dementors had realised that there were two people in Sirius' cell and had moved him into his own cell. Instead of putting him in the empty cell just next to Bella's, however, he was moved to a completely different side of the triangularly-shaped prison. When the Dementors came and led him out of the cell, Sirius and Bellatrix had tried to convince the creature to put him in the cell right  _there,_ but were ignored. The more sane of the prisoners had stared out of their cells, wondering if they were hallucinating, as a small toddler walked less than a foot behind the Dementors seemingly without being affected.

He was finally placed in a cell across from those of two fairly similar men after roughly half an hour of walking through the prison. His one-size-fits-all prison clothing appeared with the tiny bowl of gruel given to all prisoners. when he was properly settled (he carefully laid out his clothing on the edge of his bed and ate a spoonful of gruel, to stave off his hunger), he turned to his barred window and waited for the Dementors to move out of sight. The Dementors didn't actually spend much time in the prison; they mostly drifted outside the walls, surrounding the unfortunate people inside in a secondary wall of misery.

When he was sure that the hooded figure was completely out of sight, he pulled himself up and twisted sideways, then squeezed his small frame through the tiny gap in the bars of the cell. The bars in the windows were placed ridiculously far apart- although, most people hadn't been raised on the Azkaban foods, so one might suppose that it wouldn't normally matter. Hadrian, however, had a slim enough body that he could squeeze through the gap.

As he came to rest on the floor of the corridor outside of his cell with ease, the two men in the cells opposite his stared in wonder tinged with slight envy. Hadrian walked up to the one on the left, stuck out his hand and said, 'Have you pleasant dreams? I suppose that if we're going to be near each other for the rest of our stay we should get to know one another. What's your name?.' The dark haired man's face twisted with further confusion at the fairly eloquent speech coming from the tiny child.

'How old are you, child?' His voice came out hoarse from disuse.

'Well, it's hardly polite to ask my age before introducing yourself- which you should know better than me, considering you were likely raised knowing your manners- but just this once i will satisfy your curiosity. Hadrian Potter, aged four years, happy to be of service.' The man's eyes went wide, at both the name and the age, and the other man, just out of sight, had a fairly similar reaction.

 _'Harry Potter?'_  Disbelief laced his every word. 'You say that you're  _Harry Potter?_ Pray tell, why are you in  _Azkaban?_ And why do you speak with such eloquence for one of your age?' He was now peering closely at the child's features, searching for the tell-tale signs of a Potter heritage. He was not unsuccessful. 

'I did _not_ , in fact, say that I was Harry Potter, I said that I was  _Hadrian_ Potter, but yes, it is I, son of Lily and James and heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Well met. I'm here all week.' Hadrian gave a slight comedic bow. 'And I am not a blubbering mess of useless flesh like most my age because, growing up in Azkaban, there is hardly anything to do but learn, eat, and sleep, so Sirius and Lady Bell have taught me many things, among them a fairly passable vocabulary.' The man, who had still neither introduced himself or taken the hand still dangling in front of him, straightened and pushed his hand through the bars.

'Well, Hadrian, it is a pleasure. Well met. My name is Stan Lestrange.' Hadrian shook his hand, straightening up excitedly.

'Stan, as in Rabastan?' He turned to the man in the next cell, who was watching the exchange with interest. 'And I suppose that would make you Rodolphus, yes?' The man cocked his head slightly to the side.

'Well met, Hadrian. How do you know us?' Hadrian was now jumping up and down excitedly. 

'Siri and Bell told me all about you guys! And by Bell, I of course mean your wife! Bellatrix was in the cell just across from Sirius'!'

The two brothers looked at each other in mild surprise. Hadrian winced at the position they put their heads in to do so. Rabastan looked at the boy with newly opened eyes and said,

'Well, if you managed to get into Bella's good graces, and somehow got her and Sirius to be in each other's presence, I suppose we could fill in any gaps in your early education.'

And so Hadrian struck up a friendship with the two men, and eventually began to spend time talking to each person he could easily access. He was known throughout the cell block, and all those with shorter sentences promised to try to get him out. He simply laughed at them, telling them that he would thank them to try, and that would be that. Eventually, as people's cells were moved to different sections and news travelled, Hadrian was, throughout the prison, both a source of curiosity and a spot of hope. The hope was, of course, torn away whenever the Dementors got too close, but it always returned. When a stout woman was moved into the cell that Sirius and Bellatrix had hoped for Hadrian to occupy, she told them of a young boy who was spreading hope throughout the prison. She told them of how people were clinging to their sanity just to be able to hold a decent conversation with him. She told of how people were bettering themselves to give him the best childhood they could. She told them of how even the hardest of the criminals' hearts were melted after two or three conversations with the tiny boy called  _Hadrian Potter._  

And, knowing that, the two cousins looked at each other and smiled, without a scrap of their former animosity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boop boop gotta go to school so this is short bye


	3. Is it truly returning if you don't remember ever having been there?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY ATTACK  
> Sirius takes his godson with him when he runs after the traitor, hidden in his robes. Somehow, they both end up in a cell in Azkaban across from Bellatrix Lestrange. When he is old enough to be noticed by the jailers, Hadrian is moved away and makes his first friends. In this chapter; Hadrian is a little older, and ventures out beyond the walls of the prison for the first time since his parents were murdered. Minerva McGonagall is shook.

Not many people made a habit of communicating with convicted criminals. If one was an unknown, wrongfully imprisoned innocent, one would receive even fewer. Knowing this, one can imagine Hadrian's confusion when he received hundreds of seemingly identical letters, all addressed as such;

// _Mr. H. Potter_

_The Seventeenth Cell_

_Fourth Floor_

_West Side_

_Azkaban_ //

Across the corridor, Rabastan had stuck his head out between the bars of his cell and was trying to see into the younger male's. Rodolphus did the same from his cell.

'Hadrian?' Rodolphus called.

'What were all of those letters?' Rabastan finished.

'I don't know, but they are certainly addressed to me. "Mr. H. Potter, Seventeenth Cell."'

The two brothers' faces lit up with rare excitement, before quickly leaking away, as positive emotion was prone to do around Dementors. Rodolphus and Rabastan started firing off an explanation, each speaking in turn as twins and close siblings born into magical families are wont to do.

'Hadrian, that could very well be-' 

'-your Hogwarts letter. I've heard that, if you don't respond within twenty-four hours, they-'

'-keep sending them. And, because you aren't dead and you technically aren't a true prisoner-'

'-you may still be on the registry. This could be your way to escape!' The Lestrange Lords were as happy as Hadrian had ever seen them. The Potter heir was slightly more wary.

'I can't send a reply. They won't get my letter, and-' Rabastan cut Hadrian off quickly.

'If you get a Hogwarts acceptance letter, they expect to get a response, whether positive or negative,' he explained.

'If an answer is not forthcoming, they send someone to find the child.' Rodolphus spoke up in turn.

'When they do not get a response from the famous Boy-Who-Lived, they will watch the quill that writes out the addresses to see where it says you are, then they will visit.' Rabastan reached a hand through the bars in his cell in an effort to comfort the younger male.

'And surely, when it writes that you are in a cell in  _Azkaban_ , they will come running. Just you wait,' Rodolphus finished.

Hadrian smiled gratefully at his two best friends. 

'I hope so,' he said.

 

**\- - - - - - -**

 

Hadrian was speaking with one of the prisoners in his cell block, the one who wouldn't tell him her name. Whenever he would ask, she would laugh and say, 'Just call me Red.' He was trying, for the umpteenth time, to uncover her true name when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Seeing as the only time anyone other than him was walking down the corridor outside of visiting day was during a cell transfer, and there wasn't one scheduled for months, or during their patrol, which only started after nightfall, this was indeed a curiosity. Hadrian whipped around and, seeing that whoever it was had not yet turned the corner by which they would see him, scrambled away to get to his cell. He was ten cells down, across the corridor. On a good day, he would make it with seconds to spare.

It was not a good day.

It was perhaps made worse when the Auror that rounded the corridor was one of the few that did not like him. He was leading a woman who, although fairly respectable in both looks and posture, was clearly getting on in age. The escort sneered disdainfully. 

'Out of your cell again, brat? What is this, the fifth time in my past three shifts? You know that it's against the rules to be out and mucking about!' The man- Dawson? Douglas?- leered down at Hadrian, still trying to intimidate the young boy after years of it not working. Hadrian scoffed.

'As you very well know, I am not _technically_ a prisoner, therefore I do not  _technically_ have to abide by the prison rules,' Hadrian shot back. The stubborn man brought it up repeatedly on his every shift. Hadrian was fairly certain that he made sure to frequently patrol his block simply for the purpose of catching him doing something wrong. It was extremely annoying.

While the Auror and the young wizard were having their typical argument, the stern woman behind them was wondering what on earth so many children were doing in the wizarding prison. Then, she took a closer look at the thin boy in front of her.  _It can't be-_

'Harry Potter?' It slipped out before she could stop herself. The two stopped arguing, and both turned to face her. The child with vaguely familiar features looked her in the eyes intensely as he responded,

'I suppose so, although I do prefer to go by Hadrian. Pleasant dreaming.'

The woman seemed shocked to see him there, although in retrospect that was slightly ridiculous. It  _was_ why she was there, after all. She took a moment to wonder about the strange greeting, but quickly pushed it aside. She had business, after all. She quickly gathered herself and kneeled down to his height before reaching out her hand.

'I am Professor McGonagall.' She saw recognition flash in his eyes.  _Ahh, so he did get his letters._  'I am here about your acceptance letter to Hogwarts.'

Hadrian smiled blandly.

'As I was unable to respond before, I am sure it will please you to hear me say that I would be happy to attend. If, of course, you could get the Ministry to release me instead of being sent to a mind healer.' His grin turned slightly sardonic for a split second, and Minerva was reminded strongly of Severus Snape. The resemblance only strengthened when his expression quickly melted into one of polite boredom as the silence stretched. Minerva stood, brushing off her cloak slightly. A bit of the slime found throughout Azkaban stuck to her black teaching robes and her nose wrinkled slightly. She looked down at the boy and sighed. She had known as soon as the Address Quill wrote out Hadrian's place of residence that there was far more to his situation of living than Albus had tried to convince everyone.

Albus had claimed that he had taken it upon himself to place Hadrian somewhere safe before anyone could try to kill the supposed defeater of the Dark Lord, and had outright refused to tell anyone where he was because, apparently, it would be too easy for those who wished to do him harm to find him. Obviously, that was a lie. 

'I will push them to allow you to leave by the end of the week. We will then go to buy your school things, and we will find somewhere for you to stay until it is time to go to Hogwarts. I su- can you read?' The thought had not occurred to her before. Hadrian had probably lived in Azkaban for most of his life- how would he have gotten a basic education? How could he  _speak_ properly?

Hadrian only laughed.

'Don't worry- no, really, stop, I can feel you panicking from here. I can read, and write, and I have a basic understanding of magical theory. I even know how to eat a meal with proper decorum. Don't give me that look- I'm not lying, I swear! I mean, everyone in this prison loves me. I could probably learn advanced Ancient Runes from these people. I am literally surrounded by Death Eaters. Translation; I am surrounded by purebloods. Sirius taught me to speak, read, and write properly while I shared a cell with him, then when i was transferred up here, Ro and Stan taught me basic etiquette, magical theory, and occlumency. Along the way, a few people taught me random shit that I would have otherwise picked up were I  _not_ living in prison. Really, I have the wizarding equivalent of a primary school education.'

Minerva stared at him, mildly surprised.

'Why on earth were you sharing Sirius' cell? I thought there was only supposed to be one person in each?' Hadrian laughed, slightly amused despite himself.

'He's actually the one who brought me here. It's quite a funny story, really....'

 

**\- - - - - - -**

 

 

One week later, two Aurors came, along with Minerva, to formally escort Hadrian off of the prison grounds. As he walked away from his old cell, he waved and shouted,

'Bye, Stan! Ro! I'll write!'

The two brothers stuck their heads out from between the bars of their respective windows. They waved happily.

'Bye, Hadrian! Pleasant dreaming!'

'Pleasant dreaming and a clear mind!'

'Pleasant dreaming and a clear mind,' Hadrian called in return.

Minerva stared a moment at the sight of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, feared murderers and convicted death eaters, waving at a small child. She turned and hurried Hadrian away from the prison.

 

**\- - - - - - -**

 

Hadrian was seated at a table off in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron a few days later, his trunk full of his school supplies shrunk and nestled safely in the pocket of his new robes. He was waiting for Minerva to show up with the family she had said would be 'happy to take him.' He assumed it was some light or neutral family with children his age who were in with Albus. Rodolphus and Rabastan had kept him as up to date on wizarding politics as they could. The occasional pitying Auror would sometimes come along and let him read over the latest Prophet articles. Hadrian would read them, find all the main points, and relay them to the rest of his cell block. Because of this, he was well aware of how influential Albus Dumbledore was. He was the rallying point for the light, smiting the darkness and driving out evil! Absolute bollocks, in Hadrian's opinion. Then again, Azkaban wasn't exactly full of light supporters, so maybe that was his jacked up upbringing coming into play. Either way, Albus was going to have something to do with the placement of the light's precious Saviour.

 When Minerva finally arrived, she was leading the charge with an entire tribe- is tribe the right word?- of red-headed wizards, with a slightly pudgy witch of the same colouring herding them along. They finally managed to get to his table, and he signalled for them to sit and stood to shake the apparent matriarch's hand. If Hadrian was to wager a guess, he would be pretty confident in saying that these were the Weasleys. The prisoners had occasionally mentioned them in passing, and from what he'd gathered over the years, he knew that the Weasleys were infamous for their rodent-like breeding and flaming red hair. Rabastan had once made a remark about how they were so deep in Albus' pocket, it was a wonder that they were still so poor.

Hadrian did miss the two brothers.

As the raven-haired boy shook the large woman's hand, he decided he might as well try to get in her good graces. He was going to be spending the next three weeks with her, after all.

'Pleasant dreaming! Would I be correct in assuming that you are Molly Weasley, of House Prewett?' Hadrian smiled charmingly up at Molly, and she blushed. Minerva looked on with narrowed eyes.

'Why, yes indeed, although I don't know why my maiden name matters... Would I be accurate in my assumption that you are Harry Potter?' Molly was still slightly pink in the face-  _How often does she get complimented, dear Salazar_ \- as she released Hadrian's hand.

'I prefer Hadrian, m'lady, but, yes, that is I.' Hadrian turned to include the rest of the Weasley clan. 'And who are these fine gentlemen?' The rest of the Weasleys quickly hopped up to introduce themselves. A refined teenager, looking to be the eldest of the lot, reached Hadrian first and shook his hand with proper pureblood decorum.

'Most pleasant to make your acquaintance, Mr. Potter, I am Percival Weasley, feel free to call me Percy.' Hadrian smiled politely and returned the gesture.

'Well met and pleasant dreaming, Percy. Please do call me Hadrian.'

Next, a seemingly slightly younger boy detached himself from someone who could only be his identical twin and walked over, his twin following slightly behind. In moving, they had revealed a little girl Hadrian had not noticed before, who appeared to be only a few years younger than him. The two boys stopped in front of him and bowed simultaneously. Minerva, standing off to the side, noticed a spark of interest appear in the young Potter scion's eyes. She wondered what had caused it. 

'I am he known as George-' said the twin on the left-

'-and I am the one called Fred-' said the other-

'-and we are pleased to meet a fine man such as yourself,' they finished together. Minerva wondered at Hadrian's lack of reaction to the broken speech, but then remembered that he had spent years with the Lestrange brothers- who, although not twins, had one of the strongest bonds among magical siblings she had seen to date, stronger even than that of the late Prewett twins. The professor watched as Hadrian looked between the young pranksters with faint amusement.

'Would I be correct if I assumed that I have had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Weasley twins, known for their ingenious pranks and-" here he paused, smiling slightly, "-switching their identities to confuse everyone they meet? Well met and pleasant dreaming, I'll say. Just to avoid misnaming either one of you, I will call you "Gred"-' he shook the hand of the twin on his left "-and you "Forge".' He shook the hand of the other. 'I must say, you two are quite popular among my acquaintances. Quite a few of your exploits have been exciting enough to be mentioned in various newspapers! I look forward to experiencing a few pranks first hand, and writing home of it equally as much.' The twins, grinning wildly, dropped his hand and moved back, pushing their younger brother forward. The boy stepped up with confidence bordering on arrogance.

'I'm Ron Weasley, and I'm sure we are going to be great friends. Harry, what's your opinion on quidditch?' Minerva observed the slight twitch in Hadrian's right eye at being called "Harry." He made no move to take the boy's hand as he folded his behind his back.

'It's Hadrian, and I find it fascinating. A whole game concocted around two players. When I first got a hold of a quidditch magazine, I asked around about the game and I've found that it is a game where someone has given six people a way to score points, six people a way to stop that from happening, then made it entirely unnecessary by adding in two players who basically win or lose the game by themselves! The game is pretty much two people trying to see who can catch a tiny gold ball the fastest, with twelve other people below them tossing and hitting around other balls as, on average, nothing more than a distraction. It takes a  _massive_ skill difference between the opposing teams' Chasers and/or Keepers in order for them doing their jobs correctly to make any difference in the eventual outcome of the game at all! The average number of goals per team in every game is, in professional leagues, 10-15. Therefore, it is basically up to the Seeker to decide the outcome. I've found, through looking at the game statistics in the past three years, that the skill of the Seeker is what decides your team's standings. It's fascinating.' Hadrian had quickly grown animated, and the rest of their group was staring slightly as the skinny eleven years old boy gave a reasonable explanation on how most of the rules, expectations, and players in the biggest source of entertainment in magical Britain were entirely unnecessary. Ron seemed slightly dazed, but snapped out of it as it became apparent that Hadrian's speech was over.

'So, you enjoy the game, then?' he asked uncertainly. Hadrian frowned suddenly.

'Oh, Salazar, no. I've never played, and I certainly feel no inclination to do so any time in the near future. I simply found it fascinating to think about. There was this one Auror who  _never_ had any actual news articles, only ones on quidditch. I eventually got bored enough to read them, and it interested me enough to look into more. That's all.' The Weasleys, and even Minerva, were all the more confused. Noticing this, he quickly changed the subject.

'So, I believe there is yet one more of you....?' He looked at the tiny girl in the corner. Hadrian knew from the rest of the prisoners that it was rare for a Weasley to spawn a female, and no one had ever mentioned there being a girl, so she must have been born after the Lestranges' imprisonment. He had no relevant knowledge concerning anything about her. 

She blushed slightly and walked forward quickly and shook his hand slightly.

'I- I'm Ginny. It's... nice to meet you...' Ginny ducked her head and scrambled backwards to hide behind the twins again. He looked up them with a slightly raised eyebrow and they wiggled theirs, grinning, in return. Mentally filing the strange encounter away for later consideration, Hadrian clapped his hands. 

'Is that all of you, then?' At this, he twins broke into laughter. He grinned at them. 'Besides your father and the other two. I meant, does Ginny have any younger siblings I should be warned about?' Molly smiled lightly and said,

'Hopefully not for a long time, if ever. You've apparently heard of Arthur, and Bill and Charlie might come around for holidays. I suppose we should be going. Come along, everyone!' She gestured for them all to follow her and led them to a fireplace in the corner. Then, as though suddenly remembering something, she turned sharply to Hadrian. 'Hadrian, dear, have you ever travelled by Floo?' 

Hadrian shook his head, saying, 'No, but I know the concept. What's your address?'

'Just say 'The Burrow,' dear, nice and clearly. Alright, everyone, go ahead!' The Weasleys began tossing in their Floo powder. They each disappeared, one after the other, with a flash of green. Soon, it was Hadrian's turn. He hopped inside the fireplace after tossing in his own handful and said, quietly, 'The Burrow.' The Floo activated, and he was whisked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never knew how much easier it was to write on a laptop this is amazing  
> procrastinator123; you commented, saying that you hoped that harry would be rescued, or escape. CONGRATULATIONS! you are a confirmed psychic.  
> thanks to everyone who read, commented, and even looked at the title of this fic in passing. scroll long and prosper.


	4. Out of the icebox and into the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title taken from "Star Trek: Voyager" Season 5 Episode 6, "Timeless"
> 
> Harry Kim: "We're wanted on two counts of high treason, and conspiracy to violate the Temporal Prime Directive."  
> The Doctor: "Wonderful. Out of the icebox and into the fire."

Hadrian stepped out of the fireplace, slightly dizzy. He shook his head to get rid of the tilting, then looked around to take stock of his surroundings. The Weasleys’ home was warm and welcoming, and it made Hadrian very uncomfortable.

He was entirely accustomed to the dark, damp, and narrow cells and corridors of Azkaban, where the only time one could feel anything  other than the Dementors’ black magic was when sitting right next to someone else, which despite what one might think, Hadrian rarely did. The only people whose magic the boy had ever felt in Azkaban,  barring the Dementors, were Sirius, Bellatrix, and Rabastan. When he had been in Diagon Alley, it had been bad enough- he had hidden himself in Minerva’s magic, the soft grey magic a better alternative to the overwhelming mix of blaring light and softly aggravating grey with the slight tinge of carefully hidden dark, flitting just outside the edge of his senses. Minerva’s grey magic was outside of his comfort zone, but Hadrian found it far easier to push away the annoyance of one type of magic than to muddle through the conflicting affinities and the nearly painful intensity of the light magic that seemed to dominate the alley. After spending his entire life surrounded by nothing but dark magic and the occasional dark grey auror, anything lighter than neutral grey made it extremely difficult to concentrate. 

Needless to say, the almost purely light magic of the Weasley home made him wince. 

‘Okay, dear, you are going to be sharing a room with Ron, seeing as you are the same age and will probably be sharing a room for the next seven years at Hogwarts anyhow…’ Molly’s voice brought him back to the present and made him frown. What made her so sure that Ron and Hadrian would be in the same House? The Weasleys were one of those families who went exclusively to Gryffindor, and though Ron would likely end up in the House of lions, Hadrian was hardly going to go to the House of the brave. He actually rather doubted it- he figured that he would end up in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. 

Hadrian nodded in response and resigned himself to three weeks sharing a room with a disgustingly light quidditch obsessed prat who seemed to think that they were best friends simply because they were the same age. He wasn’t sure he would survive.

 

**\-------**

 

It was the final week before the children would be going to Hogwarts, and Hadrian was hiding with the only Weasleys that were even vaguely neutral- the resident masters of trickery and pranksters supreme, the twins. Hadrian still had no way of knowing which was which, considering that he had no way of knowing whether they were ever introducing themselves correctly. He could tell the difference between them- their magical signatures were slightly different, after all- but he eventually just chose one of them to call Gred and called the other Forge. No matter their names; the fact remained that- despite their family and circumstance- they were on the darker side of grey, and therefore the only ones in their family he could spend time around without becoming irritable after a few minutes. They were a bit of shade in a house filled with unforgiving and blistering sunlight. 

The twins were, at that moment, planning to release five spiders in Ron’s room. He was extremely arachnophobic, and seeing as it was currently ten o'clock at night, it was sure to give him a good scare. Because, although Hadrian had begun staying in Gred and Forge’s room as soon as he was aware of their affinity, he was still (according to Arthur and Molly) Ron’s roommate, he had access to the younger Weasley’s room and would be the one releasing the spiders. After living among and frequently conversing with convicted and technically illegally imprisoned criminals alike, he had a fairly skewed moral compass and had no problem with scaring the shit out of a fairly innocent boy. In other words, his oblique view of harm made him a convenient and well-fitting partner in crime for their various less-than-acceptable enterprises.

Hadrian moved swiftly and quietly into the room as Gred and Forge quickly retreated into their own bedroom. He gently pulled the spiders out of the jar they were in and lay them on Ron’s bed, near his feet. He nudged them in the general direction of the other boy’s head, then swiftly vacated the room. He slipped into the twins’ room, and sat down with them where they had a game of exploding snap that they had played a few minutes of just for this purpose, then continued playing as they heard a muffled yell come from the direction Hadrian had recently come from. All three pranksters grinned darkly at each other as the angry arachnophobe knocked harshly on their door.  _ There is a silver lining to every situation,  _ Hadrian thought.

 

**\-------**

 

It was the morning of the first of September. The Weasley family, along with Hadrian, were set to leave any minute. And Ronald Weasley was still packing his trunk, having woken up not long before.

As the young boy hurried down the stairs, heavy trunk thunking down behind him on every step, he glared at his soon-to-be classmate.

‘Hey! Blimey, mate, why didn’t you wake me up so I could get ready?’

Hadrian turned slowly, innocently, face arranged in a mask of “who, me?”.

‘Why, Ronald, I wasn’t aware I had been assigned as your minder. Please do remember that it is your responsibility to ensure that you can wake up on time, and that I have no reason to have entered your room this morning.’ Then, he turned to Arthur, who was organising the children in a line in front of the floo. 

‘Ah, uh, yes- Is- is this everybody?’  _ The poor man, _ Hadrian thought.  _ Has such a big family, he can’t keep track of all of them. _ Taking pity on the older wizard, Hadrian spoke up. 

‘Aye, Mr. Weasley, we’re all here.’

This seemed to satisfy the Weasley patriarch, as he ushered them all through the floo without further delay.

Once on the platform, the twins plus sidekick said a general goodbye to the rest of the family before slipping off. Forge and Gred pulled the younger boy to another wizard their age, who was leaning casually against a pillar, grinning, and apparently waiting for his yearmates to find him. When they slipped into view he grinned wider, standing upright and shifting a box in his hands, causing something to patter around inside slightly. Gred and Forge came to a sudden stop, pushing Hadrian in front of them, placing their latest recruit proudly on display. 

‘This is our newest sidekick,’ they chorused.

‘Hadrian, meet our sole roommate and the only one willing to put up with us, Lee Jordan-’ this was spat out of Forge’s mouth in the space of three seconds-

‘-and, Lee, meet our new sidekick and up-and-coming prankster, Hadrian Potter!’ Gred said his bit slightly slower than his brother, though it was still almost too quick to discern. The two newly introduced wizards looked each other up and down, then shook hands. 

‘Well met, and pleasant dreaming. I have heard many tales of the shite you’ve had to put up with these past few years. I admire your fortitude.’ At this, Lee laughed loudly.

‘Aye, of course, well met. Why Hadrian? You’ll of course know that bookstores all up and down the Alley are brimming with books just waiting to be taken off the market by a trusted solicitor, all detailing many of your wondrous supposed exploits. In none of them are you called anything but Harry. Why?’ They all moved to get onto the train together, quickly acquiring an empty compartment- after the twins scared away a second year or two. They hoisted their trunks onto the luggage rack as Hadrian replied.

‘I don’t know what the public was told after the Godric’s Hollow Incident, but whatever it was is probably utter hogwash. No one knows what happened that night. A grand total of four people were there; James, Lily, the Dark Lord, and yours truly. It was confirmed that the last four people to cross the wards of the cottage before they were torn down were the same four. The other Potters were confirmed to have been killed by the Killing Curse. The Dark Lord disappeared, and all that is known of the circumstances of his disappearance is that he was in my nursery, killed Lily, then left. Why people think that he died, I have no idea. Where people get the idea that I survived the Killing Curse, I don’t know. The lightning bolt scar that everyone seems to expect to be on my forehead doesn’t exist; the cut that people think of likely healed mere days after the Incident without scarring.

‘In short, the public is easily swayed into believing that the most far-fetched of speculation is absolute truth. This is why, when Sirius Black was found on a non magical street that had been blown to pieces with the bodies of thirteen non-magicals and Peter Pettigrew’s finger, muttering how the Incident was his fault, the Aurors had no problem taking him directly to Azkaban on Barty Crouch Sr.’s orders. No trial, no official sentencing. Sirius is as much a prisoner of Azkaban as you or I.’ The twins and Lee were completely enraptured. They drank in every word coming out of Hadrian’s mouth with jaws hanging wide open.

‘What no one knew was that Sirius was not the Secret Keeper for the Potters. Peter was. His going after Peter was simply revenge. He was blathering on about how it was his fault because he was the one that convinced the Potters to switch Secret Keepers, which led to their demise. Anyhow, when Sirius was detained and sent to Azkaban, whoever searched him did a rubbish job. You see, before he went after Peter, he stopped by Godric’s Hollow. He was the first one there after the Incident. He saw that James and Lily were dead, then went to get his revenge, taking me with him. Somehow, whatever Auror stripped him of all of his stuff and put him in his prison clothing missed the baby he had strapped to his bloody chest. Dunno how. So, anyway, I ended up sharing Sirius’ cell.’

‘A few days later, Bellatrix Lestrange is captured and sentenced to a life in Azkaban. She ended up in the cell across from Sirius’. For the next three and a half years, they were the only two people I had any prolonged contact with. Bella could hardly stand to think such an ordinary name as “Harry”, and refused to call me anything but Hadrian. Sirius picked up on it, and it’s the only name I’ve ever known.’ Hadrian leaned back in his seat once he was gone, waiting for the other three to respond, or perhaps pick their jaws up off the floor. Gred was the first to recover.

‘Blimey, Hadrian! He asked about your name, not your life story!’

Hadrian shot him a deadpan expression.

‘Be honest, Gred, how would you have reacted if I just said, “Oh, Bellatrix Lestrange- you know, the one who tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity- didn’t like ‘Harry’ and infamous serial killer Sirius Black picked up on it!”? You deserved a bit of backstory, my friend.’ 

Forge turned to his brother with his eyebrows raised in a “he’s not wrong” expression, and Gred shrugged. Satisfied with the answer Hadrian had given them, the four sat down for an exciting game of Exploding Snap to pass the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see? not abandoned!!! i did say i would update when i wasn't stressing about grades and trying to catch up on sleep because of school....  
> i just want to clarify that if i abandon something, it will have a note in the summary. yeah, okay, if this story is ever unfinished without having been updated for over a decade, assume i either died or forgot the password to my account. read: the only two reasons this should ever happen. otherwise, i am having a severe case of ohmygodhowdoyouwritefanfictionwhatisakeyboard. i try not to do things that bother me when i read fanfiction, and picking up a fic with no warning of abandonment then seeing that it is unfinished since 2003 after getting hooked is definitely a no-no.  
> anyway, yay!!! see you next time!  
> and, sorry, but it's probably going to be months again. i know vaguely where this is going, but the only way i ever get more than 1k words out in a week is if i have an essay due the next day.


	5. If it weren't for the last minute, nothing would get done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title a quote by Rita Mae Brown, as well as an acknowledgement of the fact that the only reason this is being posted is the fact that i have something to write for school tomorrow.  
> rip me and my skewed priorities.
> 
> http://novelonlinefree.info/chapter/harry_potter/chapter_2 (probably illegal online book site)
> 
> I've honestly had this one mostly cooked up since before i posted the last one, and i feel that where i picked up today veered sharply into crack territory.  
> i'm sorry.....

After the group left the train, the three senior pranksters pointed Hadrian in the direction of a rather large bearded man, who was calling for the new students.

‘Firs' years! Firs' years, over here! Gather ‘round, tha’s right, firs' years come this way!’

Once all had gathered, the man (‘Me name’s Hagrid, I’m the Groundskeeper here a' Hogwarts.’) led the children up a dirt path (‘Watch yer step, now!’) which eventually ended at the edge of a large lake. Once everyone had been corralled into the rickety-looking wooden boats, said boats began to glide across the water.

When a large tentacle drifted out of the water near the boat in which Hadrian and two others were sitting, the child sat across from the protagonist gasped and flinched away. Hadrian watched avidly, intrigued, but the tentacle simply seemed to wave at all of them before returning to the depths from which it had come.

Upon looking up, Hadrian’s gaze was met with the beautiful sight of what was presumably Hogwarts, lit by flickering firelight and shining in the darkness. Each and every wall, window, and tower glowed like a beacon, beckoning them closer. Fascinated with the image it presented, Hadrian enjoyed the view.

About halfway across the lake, Hadrian felt a blanket of coolness wrap around him from every direction. The beautifully neutral magic seemed to be emanating from Hogwarts itself- perhaps the wards? It would make sense for the school to have neutral magic, seeing as anything else would aggravate the senses of more or less half of the student/teacher population. Hadrian enjoyed the feeling, having felt rather tense due to the lightness of the mage across from him.

When the arrived at the shore, they were met by the Deputy Headmistress. Hagrid led the way into the castle and handed the students over to her (‘The firs' years, Professor McGonagall.’) then left through a side door, through which the dull roar of many voices speaking over one another could be heard.

After giving a short introductory speech, Minerva left them to their own devices as she retreated through the same door the Groundskeeper had utilized minutes earlier. In the lapse in activity, Hadrian took the opportunity to observe those around him.

A few feet to his left, he spotted someone who seemed vaguely familiar. His overall visage closely resembled both that of a family’s stereotypical characteristics, as well as the features of an older man whom Hadrian had seen many times on the occasion that one of the Lestrange brothers had used illusions to supplement their stories. Hadrian approached the boy, who was gazing in a seemingly bored manner at the distraction the arrival of the ghosts had provided. Having grown used to ominously floating figures of death in his time in the wizarding prison, Hadrian ignored them.

‘Pardon my assumptions, but are perhaps the son of Lucius Malfoy? I couldn’t help but notice the resemblance…’ The blond-haired boy turned his attentions to Hadrian, and looked him up and down before responding.

‘Well met, yes I am. My name is Draco Malfoy. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?’ Malfoy held out his hand, and smiled politely. Hadrian returned the smile and shook his hand.

‘Well met and pleasant dreaming, Heir Malfoy. I am your mother’s second cousin. My name is Harry Potter. It is always a pleasure to become acquainted with family.’ Malfoy’s right eyebrow drifted slightly higher, but otherwise the boy showed no signs of surprise.

‘I was unaware that we were related. You may call me as you wish, cousin.’ Hadrian’s smile widened slightly.

‘The same to you, cousin.’

Past the formalities of traditional wizarding introductions, Hadrian and Malfoy stood next to each other silently until the ghosts had left through the wall and Minerva had returned. Once they had entered the hall that lay beyond the door, Hadrian nudged Malfoy in the side to point his gaze towards the grand throne upon which a white bearded wizard- the Headmaster, Hadrian assumed- was perched. They shared an amused glance and a snort, both glad to have made a friend their age with seemingly similar personalities.

As Minerva fetched what appeared to be a stool, of all things, the protagonist and apparently supporting character spoke of a controversial redeemed character, setting the tone for the portrayal of morally ambiguous characters for the rest of the story.

‘The man on the left side of the Headmaster, the taller one, is my Godfather- Severus Snape, the youngest Potions Master in known history,’ the blond whispered. Hadrian found the man and nodded, having heard of him before- both by word of mouth, and in a Potions journal an auror had brought in consistently for a year or two.

‘An impressive feat. I’ve heard of him- read an article about Dreamless Sleep which the author basically spent spouting praises of his work. I look forward to his class.’

Both boys snapped to attention when singing-  _was that a hat?!-_ filled the hall.

_(A/N: if u rly feel th need 2 read that same old song then u can pick up th fucking book. failing that, i linked a [probs illegal] site with th philosophers stone in th beginning note and u can read it there. this ASPCA ad is 2 annoying 4 me 2 b bothered rn)_

The hall clapped, the hat bowed, and the first-years-to-be stared. Their confused staring was then promptly interrupted by life continuing, as life is wont to do.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Hadrian and Malfoy once again exchanged glances. They whispered back and forth about their favourite reading material, setting their respective interests and introducing hints or cliches and overused character traits.

("You  _read_ that absolute _trash?!_ Let me tell you,  _Quidditch Weekly_ has much better content..."

"A  _quidditch  magazine?_ Why would I waste my precious time...")

They continued in this vein until Malfoy was called. Hadrian smirked victoriously- he'd gotten the last word in- and Malfoy grimaced as he walked to be sorted. He was quickly sent to Slytherin, and six names later, Hadrian was ignoring whispers as he made his own way across the hall. Before he could form a grimace of his own at what the students were whispering- did she have to say that so  _loudly?_ \- the grimy hat had been plopped on his head, slipping down over his eyes.

"Eh? Well, those dementors certainly did a number on your psychological development, didn't they! You know, Mr. Potter, I don't believe I've ever seen such abnormal emotional development on a neurotypical child in the thousand years I've been sorting them! The Ravenclaws will be ecstatic to get their talons into your case."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Hadrian shot a 'what can you go?' look at a pouting Malfoy as he sat at the Ravenclaw table- at least he hoped it was the Ravenclaw table. Maybe Minerva should have been more informative concerning identifying features of the various houses. Oh, well.

Considering that he wasn't acquainted with anyone else being sorted, Hadrian ignored any further sorting proceedings in favour of paying attention to those around him.

And if he silently resolved never to mention his apparently abnormal development to anyone in his house, well, that was none of any Ravenclaw's business but his own.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have to write a story about a journey and i have little drive to write as evidenced by this story 
> 
> rip me and wish me luck
> 
> thanks to all who read, comment, and/or bookmark. scroll long and prosper.
> 
> you look at this and you dont realise that this is the sixth time ive reposted this in the past hour cos i keep finding typos


	6. AUTHORS NOTE

jan 2018

yo waddup

 

just posting 2 tell u that i mite b cmpltly revamping this @ some point in th futr bc i finlly made a actual plan 4 this fic

 

so yeh

 

scroll long and prosper:)

 

(several months later)

 june 2018

hello yes tis i el author here 2 tell u that ive planned proxmatly 2 chaps ahead in this fic n that th next chap is gonna b a few months

maybr a midsummr gift r smthn idk itll happen tho this i vow totlly legit promis frm totoly legit trustwrthy koalatee author on interneh yes much blieve

til next tme 


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